


Languages of Love

by serenissima (killalla)



Category: Shimotsuma Monogatari | Kamikaze Girls (2004)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killalla/pseuds/serenissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans are cowards in the face of happiness.  You need courage to hold on to happiness, and sometimes, the right language to express it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Languages of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melmillo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melmillo/gifts).



Words of Affirmation

I first ran away when I was fourteen years old. Akimi found me, and told me not to cry, that women must be strong, that we must swallow our tears. I think I fell in love (a little) on that night, and since that time, I’ve always admired strength in women. I just didn’t think that strength could come in the form of a stuck-up, embroidery-loving, frilly dress-wearing, fashion-victim sociopath. But I just got lucky, I guess. 

The thing is, I thought that to be strong, you had to be strong that way men were strong – you shout at people, you ride your bike, you fight. If you can take a punch and give it back three times harder, that’s strong. But Momoko is strong because she’s not afraid of anyone (it’s not that she’s not afraid of anything, she hates snakes and mice and spiders, for example). But she’s completely self-contained - she doesn’t rely on other people or crave the emotional bonds which bind friends and families together. She’s honest, and tells it like it is (she is often truthful to a fault) and she can’t be bullied at all. Knowing that, I think that’s why I wanted her to notice me, to talk to me, to need me. I wanted her to like me, because I was starting to fall for her.

And that’s why when I tell her, “You’re strong. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” it’s like I’m really telling her “I love you.”

Quality Time

Ichigo is a pain sometimes. She’s loud, and rude, and often dirty from her work at the garage, and she keeps spitting on the ground even though she knows I can’t stand it! In fact, she’s kind of like a puppy – she demands attention constantly, and everywhere she goes, she always leaves a mess behind. But she’s courageous, kind, brave, and she makes me laugh. That’s reason enough to spend time with her, for the same reason I chose to live with my father rather than my mother when they got divorced – because it would be more amusing.

And being around Ichigo is never boring, because we always find something to do. We still live in the middle of nowhere, Ibaraki Prefecture, so we take the train to Tokyo a lot, but we also ride down to the river on her bike, or have tea at the only half decent café in Shimotsuma, and sometimes just sit and talk. I like to hear to talk about her work, and she actually makes up really interesting stories, some of which she writes down and reads to me. And some of those stories give me ideas for dresses, or outfits or other designs, which is kind of helpful. 

I guess that means that she’s not like anyone else, because what she says and thinks matters to me. She’s different, and her feelings affect my happiness, too. Maybe this is what people mean when they talk about “bonds of affection” and all that? 

Acts of Service 

When Momoko sews, it’s like she’s another person, or in another world. The vision fills her head, and then she carefully sets out her materials – scissors, needles, and thread – like she’s a samurai, preparing her weapons for battle. Once she starts, she works until she’s finished – she hardly stops to eat or drink, and if she falls asleep, it’s in the middle of her work, right at the table. Although I don’t like not being able to talk to her, I like watching her work. It’s like you can see the picture that’s in her head take shape in the real world – a story, coming to life.

I’m not good at sitting still for a long time though, and sometimes she doesn’t like having me around to distract her, which must be how I missed it. Because I’ve left the gang, I can’t wear my bosozoku coat anymore, so she made me a jacket. She embroidered it with manga-style depictions of Himiko, the legendary (fictional) founder of the Kanagawa gangs. Himiko on her bike, Himiko fighting the yakuza, even Himiko in a frilly frou-frou dress. It’s cool, but also a bit silly and fun (which is how I think she thinks of me), and probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned. “Because I was bored and had an idea.” She said. “And because you need some kind of jacket when you ride, now that you’re not wearing that ridiculous long coat.” 

I don’t want to ever take it off.

Receiving Gifts 

Everybody knows I love Baby, The Stars Shine Bright. I lie to get money for it, I’d steal if I have to, and I’d probably sell my own grandmother for the latest collection. But being a trainee designer and part-time seamstress is not very well paid, and my father’s in trouble with his kyodai again, so money’s pretty tight at the moment, and I’ve been looking at ways to alter or maybe modify my dresses to make something that reflects Baby’s style, but looks like something new.

I was sitting in the café with my sketchbook, daydreaming and doodling, when Ichigo showed up, late (as usual), and dumped a crumpled paper bag on the table. “Here.” she handed it to me.

“Maeda’s in trouble with Madenokoji, and so his sister’s had to close her shop near the station, where she had a lot of designer crap she was planning to resell. Some of it looks like the stuff you like. ”

I sighed, because Ichigo’s sense of fashion is missing, maybe dead? But the bag had an unused, vintage Baby dress, from a period where Isobe’s work is closer to that of Angelic Pretty. “It’s perfect.” I breathed. I felt slightly faint. “But Ichigo, even at fire sale prices, this can’t have been cheap.”

“Don’t matter.” She grumbled, in that way she has. “I’ve been working extra hours at the garage, so I’m good for it.”

I kind of wanted to kiss her, but I thought she would be embarrassed.

Physical Touch

They’re walking arm in arm down Omote-sando, window shopping, when a gang of boys are stupid enough to make a rude comment about them. About how funny it looks to have a Yanki and a Loli walking together. “What’s the matter, girls, you get lost from your separate tribes?”

“You want to make something out of it, punks?” Even though there are five of them against one of her, Ichigo is always ready to fight. 

But a fight would mean noise, and mess, and having to interrupt her lovely shopping trip to send a bunch of losers to the hospital. So Momoko says “Now, Ichigo-chan, these gentlemen are just jealous that they’re not cool enough to also have gorgeous girlfriends.” And then Momoko kisses her – a deep, full kiss, right there in the street.

The boys just stand there for a few moments, gob smacked – before slinking away, thoroughly chastened.

Even though she knows that it’s partly a gesture of defiance – against the boys, against the world that tries to make them follow a certain ideal of adulthood and of womanhood – Ichigo smiles into the kiss, because she knows that this is Momoko’s way of claiming her, of marking her as someone important. 

And Momoko giggles, because Ichigo has such a dazed, happy expression on her face, and they resume walking down the street, towards Fauchon because there’s a new parfait there that she wants to try, and she knows that this feeling is probably what being in love is.

**Author's Note:**

> Based exclusively on the Kamikaze Girls movie, as I wasn't able to acquire the book or manga. In a few places, I have included Japanese words in romaji. As used above, they are:
> 
> kyodai: "big brothers," senior members within the yakuza
> 
> bosozoku: "violent running tribe," motorcycle gang


End file.
